


Some Kind Of Magic

by LadyGlinda



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Hints at underage desires, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Sibling Incest, Smut, Some Humor, Virgin Sherlock, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGlinda/pseuds/LadyGlinda
Summary: Sherlock and John solve a case and end up with receiving a little bottle that will change Sherlock's life quite a bit.





	Some Kind Of Magic

“Pffff.”

The woman shot him an indignant glare. “There are more things in heaven and…”

“Oh, please, spare me this hackneyed nonsense.”

“You are an annoying…”

“Yeah, yeah, heard that one before, too.” Sherlock stood up. “Can we go now, John? The case is solved and that you needed my help for that says enough about your… abilities…” He threw a nasty look at the fortune teller and 'magician', an elderly woman, complete with long, tousled, black hair, long, red fingernails and huge golden rings in her ears. She was a walking, bullshit-talking cliché if he'd ever seen one, trying to convince him that she had powers he couldn’t even imagine.

She glared at him. “I can prove it! Here, take this.”

Sherlock looked at the small bottle with a milky fluid in it but made no attempt to take it out of her hand. “You know what that looks like…”

“Sherlock!” John had suddenly very red cheeks.

“What? It looks like milk. What did you think?” Sherlock grinned. Oh, this was fun. Going to a circus, solving a case that was almost an eight and then have his way with this wannabe-witch and above all making a sex-joke that made his best friend blush. Really an amusing day, this.

John shook his head and finally got up. “Ma'am. Have a nice day.”

She ignored him, her flaming gaze fixed on Sherlock. “Take that! Give that the last person on earth you consider being in love with you and see what it does!”

“So better not Molly, huh?”

“Don't be mean, Sherlock! She suffers enough from that.”

He ignored the doctor and grinned at the woman. “So, you say I should, what, put a few drops in someone's tea and then…”

“… they're crazy for you, yes.”

“For how long?” John asked, taking it all completely seriously.

“Really John? And I thought you were a man of science!”

“Two days!” She cackled like a, well, witch. “This amount is enough for a year if you want to keep your love slave.”

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, not for the first time since they'd arrived in the small, red tent.

“Oh, come on, Sherlock, let's try it.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my reasonable John Watson?!” But finally Sherlock took the bottle and stored it in his coat pocket, ignoring the smug expression on the ugly woman's face.

*****

“Lestrade!”

“No way, John. He practically drools when he sees me. Wouldn’t prove anything.”

“Right… Donovan!” John giggled.

“She would never drink anything I give her… Afraid it could be poisoned. Hm… Do you think…”

“Forget it, Sherlock. Oh, fuck!” The short, blond man stopped dead. “That's it!”

“Another brilliant idea? You do know it will never work anyway, don't you?”

“Mycroft!”

“What?!”

“We'll give it Mycroft. Well, _you_ have to do it. We wouldn't want him to fall for _me_ …” John shuddered.

“Is that the rules? And really, you don't seriously believe…”

“Then what do you have to lose?”

“Perhaps it IS poison after all. Well, wouldn't be too bad, either…”

“Hehe, can you imagine stiff, emotionless Mycroft getting crazy for you? That would be so ridiculous.”

“What's really ridiculous is that you think it will work, John. But if you insist…”

“Wonder how we'll get him to drink it…”

“I'll invite him over. It's Mummy's birthday soon. No problem. He likes milk in his tea.”

*****

“Do sit down, Mycroft. Tea?” Sherlock smiled at his brother and from the corner of his eye he saw how John was desperately trying to keep a straight face. If he didn’t do better, Mycroft would get suspicious. But then – John always made fun of him…

“Well, thank you.”

Sherlock had prepared one of the cups with the drops already and after pouring the tea, he only pretended to add some milk. He handed Mycroft the cup and sat down in his armchair.

Mycroft watched him with an expression of confusion and more than a hint of suspicion. It had been a long time since Sherlock had invited him for tea. Well, actually it was the first time…

Sherlock cleared his throat. “About Mummy's birthday… It's the seventieth and I thought we should get her something nice, together, we, the two of us.” Why was he so nervous?

Mycroft narrowed his eyes and then he finally took a sip of the tea. John looked as if he was about to burst out with laughter and Sherlock would have almost slapped the cup out of his brother's hand. Why the hell? Because it could work? Stupid! But what if it harmed his brother? He wasn't exactly fond of him but he didn’t want to make him suffer, either, no matter how he had joked about it being poisoned would be a good idea.

Obviously the drops didn’t have a strong taste as Mycroft drank another sip and then put his cup into the saucer without grimacing. “Yes, that's a good idea.” He sounded surprised… and fond. “What did you think of?” He smiled at Sherlock, seeming to finally buy the story.

Of course Sherlock had not wasted a thought on this. “Well… I reckoned… perhaps we could spend a weekend up there, spoiling her?”

Mycroft looked at him as if he'd grown a second head but then he nodded. “That sounds nice. Really. I'm in it.”

Now John did start to laugh and Sherlock shot him a deadly glare. John hurried to pretend having read something funny on his phone. “Oh, sorry, I just… Well…”

Mycroft ignored him and emptied his cup. “Well, we can talk about the details then, Sherlock, I have to go back to the office.” He didn’t ask why Sherlock hadn't just phoned or texted him to discuss the matter. Actually he looked rather pleased that Sherlock had asked him to come over.

Sherlock got up along with him. “Alright. See you, then.”

Mycroft smiled at him. “Yes, goodbye then, Sherlock. Doctor Watson.” With this he took his briefcase and his umbrella and left.

When the door had closed behind him, John shrugged. “Well, he _was_ nicer than usual.”

 _Yes, because **I** was nice to him for a change… _Sherlock bit his lip. “Well, he wasn't exactly all over me, was he?”

“We don't know how long it will take until it starts working.”

Sherlock sighed. “It won't work, John. I told you from the start. I'll go out now; I need some fresh air.”

“Alright. Prepare for losing your virginity tonight!”

“John!”

The doctor giggled. “Sorry.” He patted Sherlock's shoulder. “See you later, mate.”

Still shaking his head, Sherlock left the flat.

*****

The day went on as every other day. He solved two cases, one for Lestrade, one for an old woman who was sure to hear the ghost of her husband every evening (what was it with people believing in stupid supernatural stuff these days?!) which turned out to be a raccoon on her roof… The little thing went off like a rocket when Sherlock and John had roused him in his sleep, and would hopefully find another playground.

When they returned, they sat down for tea. John sighed when he put milk into his cup. “Damn… You were right.”

They had not heard a single word from Mycroft all afternoon.

Sherlock grinned. “Who knows – perhaps it takes half a day or even a full day to do the deed.”

“Nah. He should have been all over you already.”

“And you would be watching or what, John?! Incest, really, is that your kink?”

John squirmed. “No! But… You would make a rather hot couple…”

“Sorry what?”

“Yeah. You, all virgin, asexual, body just transport, so smart and attractive… and he? All tall, blue-eyed, ice-cold smugness, sophistication and brain, and now imagine both of you reduced to naked, sweaty, whimpering, horny messes, he pushing his big dick into you…”

Sherlock almost dropped his cup and to his terror, he realised that his trousers seemed to have gotten a little tighter around the crotch. “Bloody hell, John?! What's wrong with you?” _Don't look down, don't look down…_

John giggled. “Ah come on. You and he - that would be the perfect match. Can you imagine that he would give his dick to anyone else than you? He hates everybody else.”

“I'll just pretend the last two minutes have never happened.” Sherlock got up. “Or better the last twenty-four hours. I'm in a madhouse!”

John's chuckling followed him until he slammed the door of his bedroom.

*****

He had a very nice dream. Strong arms were pulling him against a warm chest. Lips were pressed onto his forehead and a hand was sliding over his arse.

He groaned.

_Wait…_

He shot up. “What…”

“Oh, you're awake! My prince!”

“M… Mycroft?” He could hardly see his brother in the darkness but he saw enough to know he was as naked as he was himself, always sleeping in the buff.

“Kiss me, Sherlock! I'm dying for kissing you.”

“Wait, no, what… ouff…”

Sherlock moaned when a surprisingly strong hand pulled at his thigh so it entangled with his brother's long, naked legs and his crotch was pressed against Mycroft's.

“I love you, Sherlock,” Mycroft mumbled into his mouth and he almost passed out.

It had worked! The goddamn love potion had fucking worked with his Iceman of a brother. Two days! Oh, fuck…

And why was his bloody dick so hard now? Why was his tongue pushing against Mycroft's as if there was no tomorrow?

“I've always loved you, Sherlock, since you were twelve.”

_What?!_

“You were so pretty and so sweet, clinging to my neck whenever I came home to visit you. And I could hardly keep my hands off your arse! It's so nice and round and firm.”

All at once there was a finger poking against Sherlock's hole and he shrieked.

Mycroft shut him up with deeper kisses and started penetrating him with his finger.

It burnt and Sherlock knew if Mycroft fucked him like this, with the huge appendage that was rubbing against Sherlock's dick, he would rip him apart. And dammit, he knew this would come next…

“Wait; I've got something in the drawer.”

It wasn’t exactly lube as Sherlock didn’t masturbate, let alone had sex but he had some balm that should work.

A few moments later a slick finger slid back into him and he sighed. Definitely better…

But…

“No, Mycroft, we can't do this!” God, when the love potion stopped working and Mycroft got his senses back, he would _kill_ him… And why was he even considering it?!

And then something way thicker than a finger searched entrance. “No, I… Oh bloody hell…”

Mycroft slid into him, frantically kissing his neck, and Sherlock closed his arms around his brother's neck, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper and then the bed started shaking when Mycroft fucked him, hard, mercilessly, sweetly.

It was over not even a minute later. Mycroft shot something hot and strong into him and Sherlock came, biting down on Mycroft's shoulder while he was releasing himself over his own stomach. His head was spinning as if he'd had a cocaine shot and he felt all boneless, sore and stupidly happy.

Magic existed. Magic had brought his brother into his bed. And hadn't John been right with his vivid imagination? Wasn't it really like this?

The perfect couple. Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes… the smartest men on earth, too good for anybody else…

Mycroft pulled his softening dick out of him and lay down next to him. “Did you like that?” he asked, sounding completely calm.

“Oh, God, yes.”

“A fortune teller, Sherlock, really?”

“What?!” Sherlock pulled away from him.

Mycroft snorted. “I always know where you're going, brother, if you leave your usual paths. And then you invited me for tea and I clearly saw you didn’t put milk into it and yet the tea looked as if you had. John hardly able to not giggle all the time. Deductions, anyone?”

“But… Fuck… Why did you just do that? Just to prove a point?! To punish me?” Not that it would have felt like a punishment...

Mycroft sighed. “No. It was all true – everything I said. Couldn't resist taking the chance.”

“That means you… really love me?”

“Unfortunately yes. And now go on mocking me.”

“Mocking… You're an idiot! Do you really think I would have just let you do that if I hadn't wanted it?” It had all happened so damn fast that he'd had no time to think about it before Mycroft had taken him but it was pretty clear now…

“You did? What about John…”

“A little late to think about that, isn't it? But don't worry – he'll be delighted…” He would in all probability die for _watching_ them… Not that Sherlock would let him...

“If you say so. Can I have another kiss, little brother?”

Sherlock didn’t answer, instead crushing his mouth against Mycroft's.

He'd been right – the fortune teller had been a fraud.

But some kind of magic existed. It was called _love_.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> I just realised that this sounds a bit parodistic at times, bear with me for that :) Just another scribble that forced itself out of my brain within an hour and above all early in the morning.


End file.
